Novel & Cerita Safe In His Arms Book

The world outside continued moving—cars passing, distant sounds of life—but inside that room, time slowed. Eventually, he shifted so we were lying back against the couch, my head resting against his chest, his arm around me. His hand traced slow patterns on my arm, absent but affectionate. “I didn’t think I’d feel this way again,” he said quietly. “Feel what?” I asked. “Safe,” he replied. My throat tightened. I closed my eyes, listening to his breathing, memorizing the weight of his arm around me, the way he held me like he didn’t want to let go but wasn’t afraid to give me space either.

“I’ll watch over you.” I let out a small smile. “I know. You always do.” He nodded. “Always baby girl… I will always keep you safe” I closed my eyes. Darius’s arms tightened. I wrapped my arms around his body. I was safe in his arms. Always.

Not even here in this apartment that had become my safe haven as long as the lights stayed on. But right there in his arms as he carefully worked shampoo into my hair, kneading gently with a well trained patience, undivided attention and firm fingers, I felt safe. For the first time in my life, I felt completely safe in the arms of one of the most dangerous men in the entire world. Under the spray of the shower, he kissed me slow, soft and sweet. He carried me back to the room, drying my hair, my body, and slipping me back into my t-shirt.

He bent over me and held out his hand, hesitating as if silently asking my permission. I did not move. He pulled me close into his arms anyway. I was rigid with tension initially, still immersed in the fog of fear. But his warmth seeped in gradually, like light into darkness. His arms around me were tight. Not possessive. Not demanding. He was just there. And I let him. I dug into his chest and let the sobs shake me. His hand was in my hair, his voice soft in my ear. "You're safe. I've got you."

The room seemed to fade away, the noise became distant, and all that mattered was that I was safe in his arms. That’s where I am now. Standing with his arms wrapped around me like a shield, his head resting against my shoulder, as if he’s afraid that if he lets go, I’ll disappear. His grip is almost painful, but I don’t care. I feel safe, safer than I’ve felt in a long time. My body is still cold, but the warmth of his embrace is keeping the worst of it at bay.

Grabbing my chin, he guides my head upwards to look at him, his eyes, unwavering from mine. "Have you felt unsafe since you've been with me." My eyes drift from his, until I'm looking past him. Knowing that my confession will only hurt him. "It's not that I don't feel safe with you. It's more that I've never felt safe. If my past has taught me anything, it's that if I think I'm safe, and let my guard down, I become an easy mark for them. Anytime I've ever felt I was finally free from them, they always found a way to get to me. So honestly, I don't think I could ever feel safe. The closest feeling I've had to that, is whenever I'm in your arms. You make me feel safe."

His fingers traced slow patterns along my arm. Outside, the world kept spinning. But here, in his arms, everything was still. “You’re safe now,” he said. I smiled against his skin. “I know.” He held me tighter. “Because I have you.”

“You’re safe,” He pressed me tightly against himself, and tears leaked from my eyes but I hugged him back, forgetting all that was happening around me. I drew in a deep breath of relief, ignoring the exhaustion gradually taking over my body, as I stayed in his arms. My palpitating heart gradually slowed down and warmth spread over me. I felt safe in his arms, and I was glad he wasn’t hurt. All I wanted was to remain in this position, but the familiar voice of Vincenzo sailed into my ears and I glanced past his shoulder to see the older man a few feet away from us, with a pistol in hand.

Armstrong kissed my forehead, my cheeks, my lips. "You're beautiful," he said softly. "And you deserve so much better than what he gave you." I couldn't speak. I felt unmade and remade all at once. Armstrong pulled me against his chest. The silk sheets were cool against my overheated skin. His heart beat steady under my ear. "Sleep," Armstrong murmured, stroking my hair. "I've got you." And despite everything; the betrayal, the heartbreak, the uncertainty…I felt safe. My eyes drifted closed.

But that brief moment was ruined when his arm wrapped around my waist and he pulled me flush with his chest. I froze, eyes wide. “What are you doing?” “Making sure you don’t go anywhere.” His breath was hot waves against my neck. He was warm, and I wasn’t afraid. I felt oddly safe in his arms. There was a comfort I wasn’t supposed to feel, but I did. Maybe sleeping with a killer was the safest place to be.